


We'll walk in the sun

by disappointionist



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Fluff, Insecurity/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointionist/pseuds/disappointionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Dan felt like being not fine around Arin would never be the impossible task that it could be around other people.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll walk in the sun

For a couple of weeks, Dan’s head had been unusually loud, packed to the brim with a buzz of thoughts. Eventually, he didn’t even know what it was filled with, just that it was all there, impossible to keep track of. It made him feel an undefined kind of strange, hard to pinpoint and therefore hard to solve. He had never known how to say that he wasn’t okay, it always felt like it shouldn’t have to be anyone else's business.

 

Of course, those weeks were topped off by one of the worst timed cons ever, kicking Dan out of his usual routine, sending him away and packing his daily schedule with several panels and hours of signing. He was talking and walking seemingly without end. Everywhere he looked, square meter upon square meter filled with people and noise and colors stretched out before him.

Events like conventions were always a kind of overload, leaving not just himself but everyone else exhausted for days after. Dan wished that there was an emergency break somewhere, a button to push that would eject him from the haze he was in. Except there wasn’t anything like that, and he was constantly making himself aware of the fact that he’d seen the others in the grumps family power through feeling a lot worse. If they could do it while having a fever, nearly passing out or on only two hours of sleep, then Dan, who just felt off, could do it too.

 

Dan was still grateful to be rooming with Arin, who didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk in their way up in the elevator at the end of the day. They both understood each others exhausted silence, and how sometimes that was needed for them to be able to get back on it later. As soon as Dan had unlocked their room they both stumbled inside, shrugging out of their jackets and taking off their shoes, thankful for a couple of blissful hours rest before dinner with Ross and Barry.

Arin opened the laptop on top of his bed, and Dan lay down on his own, closing his eyes. The tapping of Arin’s fingers against the keyboard lulling him in the way that familiar sounds always did. Over the years, Dan had collected a variety of them; strong winds through trees - like outside his childhood bedroom, certain voices like his granny’s and Arin’s, the buzz of city streets, Led Zeppelin IV, keyboards, music or game sounds leaking from headphones. They all worked nearly as good as a sleeping pills.

 

*

 

Dan couldn’t have been asleep for too long. He was vaguely aware of time having passed and Arin sitting at the edge of his bed without opening his eyes. Maybe the dip of the mattress had woken him up, or possibly the silence that came with Arin abandoning his computer.

“Hey,” Arin said quietly.

Dan raised his hand from the covers in an attempt at a wave. “Hello,” he said, voice creaky and weird from sleep and wearing his voice out during the day.

“How are you doing?” Arin asked.

“‘M fine. Fucking exhausted,” Dan said. He rubbed a hand over his face in hopes that it would make him feel just slightly less groggy, though of course it didn’t do much at all.

“I was just-, this might be really stupid.” Arin said, sighing. “Never mind.”

Dan could feel Arin bracing himself against the bed to possibly get up again.

“What?” Dan opened his eyes at last, looking up at Arin.

“I mean, it’s just been a long day. And I’m probably just worrying too much.” Arin smiled. He looked sleepy in a way that made Dan kind of want to pull him down and cuddle up against him and sleep for maybe a year. Except that thought wrenched something around in him, and the warmth of it only lasted for a second.

“About me?” Dan asked, reaching out to nudge at Arin’s leg – a weak compromise with himself.

“I guess?” Arin said, turning his face away. “Yeah, yeah. About you.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” Dan said fondly.

“No, I know dude,” Arin said. He looked back at Dan, seeming almost apologetic. “And I mean, maybe I’m just over thinking it. But like, I’m going to ask and you can laugh at me if I’m just being ridiculous.” Arin paused, and Dan had to nod for him to go on. “Like, are you okay? Outside of this fucking drain of a day that is.”

“Yeah, man,” Dan said, automatically, without even thinking. When he met Arin’s eye, Arin didn’t have to tell him it had come out too fast for either of them to believe it was the truth. Saying the easy thing in response to that kind of question was a trait they shared after all. Dan shook his head quickly.

“Well, I mean, no. I’m sorry,” he said, correcting himself.

“Shh, don’t be,” Arin said, patting the top of Dan’s hand where it still lay next to Arin’s own leg.

Dan had the impulse to take Arin’s hand, but then Arin turned on the bed, pulling his feet up so that he was sitting cross-legged, and Dan had to move to make more room for him to sit.  

“So, what’s up?” Arin asked quietly after a moment. His fingers was drawing detailed patterns on the comforter.

“It's just... I'm in a rut, I guess,” Dan said with a sigh. “It’s been going on for a while.”

“Okay,” Arin said, slowly. “Is there something I can do?”

“Maybe,” Dan said, which was the closest to the truth he could get.

“Being a bit vague here Daniel,” Arin said, giving Dan a smile when their eyes met.

“It’s a lot of bullshit, really,” Dan said, because he knew it was the truth. He sat up, scooting back against the headboard, leaning his head against the top of it and closing his eyes. “Some days I just don't feel good enough, or that I'm not doing enough to work toward what I need. There's all these deadlines and projects and on some days I feel like I'm not doing enough. That I'm not enough,” he said. “And everything just keeps piling up and leading to the next, and now I don’t even know all the things I worry about anymore because I keep thinking that if I open the door and let even a little out it’ll just pour out, messy and impossible to sort through…” Interrupting himself, he looked up again, managing a small smile in Arin’s direction. “Kind of like now. Sorry.”

“Okay,”  Arin said. “It’s okay.”

 

Dan thought that he should have expected that kind of answer, that particular brand of acceptance that Arin was so very good at. Arin wouldn’t tell Dan that he’s being stupid or that he shouldn’t listen to his own head. He would tell him that it’s okay, the way that he always did, because he knew that Dan would do the same for him. It was a half-spoken agreement that they made a long time ago. They could say whatever, and it would always be okay. If it ended up too much or badly thought out in retrospect, they’d just agree not to talk about it again. Because of it, Dan felt like being not fine around Arin would never be the impossible task that it could be around other people.

 

“Does it mean anything to you if I say that you're enough to me?” Arin asked, nudging Dan’s ankle.

“Of course it does,” Dan said, meaning it, even when he knew it might not change anything right then.

“And you're amazing,” Arin continued.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” Dan said, though clearly he lacked in the delivery, because Arin’s expression twisted into something almost ridiculously skeptical.

“And you're one of the funniest people I’ve ever worked with,” Arin said. He started crawling across the bed, reaching Dan before Dan had the time to even process what was going on.

“Arin!” Dan protested, laughing as he tried to swat at Arin, who only responded by wrapping his arms around him.

“The nicest and handsomest too,” Arin said, muffled by Dan’s shoulder as he pulled him closer.  

“Really?” Dan said. He couldn’t help but smile, because Arin sounded nothing but sincere.

“Yes. And all that translates into what you do. All of it,” Arin said, leaning back so that he could fix Dan with a serious stare.

“Aww,” Dan said, still smiling.

“Every single thing,” Arin said, his grip tightening around Dan’s t-shirt.

“You’re very nice to say that Ar,” Dan said, reaching up and running a hand over Arin’s arm, because the least he could do when he was already there was to reciprocate.  

“It’s just the truth,” Arin said, pausing briefly. “And I get it if that doesn't, sink in now. Because if it’s shitty, it is and it doesn’t have an instant fix… But I feel like it helps when I try to anchor the good stuff to something you said once.”

“Me?” Dan asked.

“Well for example,” Arin said.  

“Thanks, man,” Dan said after a few moments pause, his hand stilling on Arin’s upper arm.  

“Any time,” Arin said. His gaze caught on something at the other end of the room, possibly outside the window. Whatever it was, Dan couldn’t see it over Arin’s shoulder.

“Did you trick me into cuddles?” Dan asked to gain Arin’s attention back. It worked, making Arin turn his head and huff in protest.

“I don’t have to trick you into cuddling.” Arin smirked.

Dan realized a second later that Arin had taken it as a challenge. His grip on Dan tightening before he dragged Dan, yelping and wriggling, onto his lap.

“Help, help,” Dan said, meekly, unable to sound serious or even mock-shout it. It was a shadow of a protest, and he couldn’t resist leaning his head against Arin’s chest anyway. He found that if he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, he could almost fight off all the worried thoughts it brought with it. The feel of Arin, his scent and his heartbeat. The things that Dan liked having close, but that he liked in the wrong ways, ways that make him feel a little sick and as if his skin is itching where Arin could, but didn’t, touch him.

 

”Is this okay?” Arin asked. He was very close to Dan's ear. He was, in general very close.

”I don't know,” Dan said, quietly.

Arin loosened his grip before Dan had even finished talking, moving away.

”No,” Dan said without meaning to, feeling like something more than Arin was disappearing from underneath him. ”Come back.”

“Dan,” Arin said. It sounded like the beginning of something, but Arin just went quiet.

“I'm just-, I just have a lot going on in my head right now. Please come back,” Dan said.

Arin looked at him in silence for a long time, until Dan sighed, leaning over while reaching for him, wrapping his arms as tight as he could around Arin’s body.

“Fine,” Arin said with a sigh, arms almost hesitantly snaking around Dan's waist, the side of his face resting against the back of Dan’s head.

“Arin?” Dan asked, waiting for Arin to hum in confirmation. “I love you,” he said.

Arin took several long seconds too long before he replied.

“I love you too,” he said. And it was suddenly very far from lighthearted.

 

If they wanted to, Dan thought, if he wanted to, they could never mention this again.

It was as simple as saying the magic word, and it would be one in the line of times and conversations between them that never existed at all. The only trace being a promise not to bring it up at any time in the future.

“What happens if we do?” Dan asked. Maybe it was the exhausting day, or week, or month. Or maybe it really was Dan’s fear realized and he really couldn’t shut up once he had started. Either way the words were out of his mouth before he had even registered that they were there.

“Do what?” Arin’s voice was low, almost unfamiliar even to Dan.

“What happens if one of us bring up something that we wouldn't talk about again?” Dan said quietly.  

“You want this to be like that?” Arin asked. He didn’t sound like it had come as a surprise.

“Nah. I just want to know,” Dan said. He worried the hem of Arin’s t-shirt between his thumb and index finger and thought about Arin thinking about it too. That one phone call from Philadelphia, the hotel room that was a lot like this one, but in New York.

“Well I have no idea. And it's never happened so-,” Arin said, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Dan knew that there never was a rule for it, because there didn’t have to be. Because the point of having things you never bring up again is to not do that. He took a deep breath.

“I'm not sure I want us to have them anymore,” he said, and Arin went rigid against his side.

“What?” Arin said, slowly.

“Things we don't talk about,” Dan said. He looked up, but Arin wasn’t looking back at him.

“Why?” Arin asked after a long silence.

“Because lately I’ve felt it. Even though I’ve wanted to or promised to forget about it, I still feel it sometimes, and it’s in some branch of whatever this is that I’m going through. Like I’m feeling like I’m not enough, and at times I have these faint ideas of feeling guilty, that I probably should because god-, Arin. I want to apologize, and I can’t do that if we’ve decided that it never happened at all,” Dan said. When Arin made the indication to move away from their embrace, Dan let himself slip down from Arin’s lap, but didn’t interrupt his line of thought. “It's been going on for long. It's not about right now,” Dan said, uncertain if that would matter to either of them.

Arin only hummed vaguely. Dan couldn’t bear looking at Arin looking away anymore, so he gazed down at both their legs, stretched out next to each other, several inches apart. Arin’s legs bare where his shorts end above his knee, Dan in his second most well-worn jeans.

 

“Are you going to leave?” Dan asked.

“No,” Arin said, and he was drawing something invisible on the comforter with his fingertips again. “I mean, I guess it depends on what you want to say about it apart from being sorry, because I’m not sure I can take just that.”

They were quiet for another moment, and Dan tried to figure out if he felt lighter from this, if he really thought that it would help.

“I meant every word of that phone call, even if I was drunk,” Dan said at last. He kept his eyes on Arin, even when Arin wasn’t looking at him. “And when you asked me about it I lied. Which, is not something I do, which should have told me a lot at that point. But I’ve lied to you twice since I knew you. That time and-”

“After New York,” Arin said, cutting him off.

“Yeah.” Dan nodded. “I heard you. I thought about it for days after. Fuck, I still think about it.”

Arin finally turned his head and met Dan’s gaze. His eyes were dark, and for once Dan had no idea what his facial expression meant.

“I’m such an asshole,” Dan said, drawing in a deep breath. “I heard you and I can’t tell you that I haven’t felt the same plenty of times and I didn’t do shit about it except decided we’d be better off forgetting it. And I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Arin said, nearly cutting Dan off.  

“I am,” Dan insisted, tipping his head against the headboard.

“Then I forgive you. Happy?” Arin said, his hand brushing briefly against Dan’s leg.

“Not sure,” Dan said, grimacing. “Arin,” he said, even though he wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say until he caught a hold of Arin’s hand.

“We’ve both been stupid. It’s what we do sometimes. There still haven’t been a day that I haven’t been happy and thankful that I get to work with you,” Arin said.  

“Even when I’ve been a complete fucking douche,” Dan said.  

“Shut up, Dan,” Arin said. “You think I’d have a thing for you if you were anything but amazing? If you weren’t crazy talented and good looking?”

Dan had thought it, had even heard that and more before, but he still tightened his grip on Arin’s hand, because he at least had not heard it in that particular tone. The one that said that Arin hadn't even considered messing with him.   

“You're just trying to get into my pants now,” Dan said, managing a smile.

Arin looked up, raising one eyebrow. “Is it working?”

“Not at all,” Dan said, smile widening.

“Okay, just checking,” Arin said airily, like so many times before, even though it wasn’t at all. “Also, you know that’s not true,” he continued. “I love you and you’re my best friend and this… crush thing and whatever we’ve said or meant, it doesn’t even matter, okay? If there’s one thing I’ve figured out, it’s that. We’ll always be here for each other.”

 

Dan watched their hands while Arin talked. He rubbed his thumb over Arin’s skin, and when he did, Arin did it too, in an echo or reply.

“Would you want it to matter? If I did?” Dan asked quietly. “I know it may be too late, and I doubt it will fix this thing I’m going through but-”

“Yes,” Arin said, interrupting him. Then, he fell quiet for so long that Dan had to look over at him. “But it’s not to fix anything, and it’s not because you feel guilty.”

Dan shook his head. “No,” he said, and he meant it as a promise. “C’mere.” He tugged at Arin’s hand, and Arin half moved, half fell against him.

They looked at each other for a few long breaths, Dan felt his own chest moving against Arin’s.

“Can I touch you?” Arin asked.

Dan wanted to give a smartass reply. It’s what he would do on an ordinary day, and he wanted this to be both ordinary and not at all. Not that it mattered, because he couldn’t think of a single thing to say except a simple “Yes.”

Arin answered with nothing at all, with running his fingers over Dan’s back, soft and smooth, like water. Drawing patterns the same way he had on top of the bed.

“I wouldn’t mind being this close to you every day,” Arin whispered.

Dan wasn’t even sure that Arin had realized he had said it out loud. He pressed his body against Arin’s, letting Arin’s hands move over him, firmer over his ribs, curling over his hips.

“Now that's how you do it,” Dan said, a little breathy.

“Do what?” Arin asked.

“Get into my pants,” Dan said, wanting to smile like he was cracking a joke, but unsure that he meant it enough.

“Really?” Arin asked. The look on his face made Dan’s abdomen surge in a way that told him that he definitely wasn’t joking at all.

“Maybe,” Dan said.

“You're being vague again.” Arin was smiling, watching Dan carefully.

“Dammit,” Dan said, pausing. “I was going for coy.”

 

Dan reached for Arin, running his thumb over Arin’s jaw, the dip above his chin and his lower lip. There was permission enough in the way that Arin closed his eyes and parted his lips, so Dan didn’t even ask. He inhaled, relishing in the nervous flutter in his chest that came with the last seconds of not knowing what it would be like to kiss someone.

The first seconds kissing Arin were strange and unfamiliar, because Dan had never kissed a guy before, never kissed anyone with a beard either, and it felt weird in a very, very good way.

Arin made a noise that sounded a lot like relief, which made Dan smile, and smiling into a kiss was always so irresistible to him that he couldn’t really stop, even if it made the kissing more sloppy. While Dan smiled, Arin pressed himself closer, as if trying to catch up on whatever little traces Dan’s smile was possibly keeping from him.

He trailed sloppy kisses along Arin’s cheek, could feel Arin at once try to pull away and press himself closer when Dan bit gently at his jaw. It felt better, more even, than Dan had felt in a while. The beard made it a little rough even when it wasn’t, and Arin kept making noises at the back of his throat, as if he couldn’t help it. And Dan wanted them closer, wanted Arin closer until there was no space at all between them, he wanted their molecules to mingle and exchange.

 

Arin laughed into Dan’s mouth, a bubbling and uncontrollably joyous sound. It felt like champagne in Dan’s veins, an intoxicating kind of joy. Probably also, Dan thought as he pulled back from the kiss, very addicting.

“Is this a one time thing?” Dan asked, after thinking three times that he probably shouldn’t.

“Only if it’s fucking terrible,” Arin said without missing a beat, words getting caught up in Dan’s hair.

  
Dan knew Arin was joking, of course he did, but he couldn’t think of a reply, and his body felt too bony and harsh even for himself. But when Dan moved back, even just slightly, Arin pressed himself closer and into the silence, as if he was meant to be there, fitting himself snugly against Dan.

“Hey you,” Dan said quietly.

“It’s not a one time thing,” Arin said, bending his head into the crook of Dan’s neck. Dan didn’t reply. “It won’t be, because it’s you.”

“What if I’m a mess?” Dan asked after a moment’s silence.

“Dan, please,” Arin said, nudging Dan’s chin with his thumb. “I’ve been wanting to make a mess of you for fucking ages.”

Dan shivered, and a surprised laugh escaped him. The assumption that Arin could feel him tremble making him a little light headed.

“You should call Barry. We’re not going to make it for dinner,” he said.

Arin’s laugh was low and throaty, thrumming against Dan’s body. Dan parted his lips against Arin’s, trying to gather up as much of that laugh as he possibly could.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written upon anon request for insecure!Dan with Arin comforting-fluff, over at my grumps-tumblr damnavidans. So this is a special shoutout to that anon!


End file.
